


After The Battle

by Caia (Caius)



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: F/F, PWP, Plug and Play, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-03
Updated: 2011-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-15 08:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/pseuds/Caia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-battle PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After The Battle

Chromia never let her gun out of reach, or out of sight.

Reflexively, Elita glanced over at it--still ready, on the opposite side of her helm from Elita's own--and then, for a moment, didn't think of guns or the battlefield at all, as Chromia's lips descended on hers, kissing and biting and causing Elita to moan and clutch at her back.

There was energon, there, and dents, and Elita ran her hands over the outline of the mark where Chromia had taken a hit for her.

Elita couldn't think about that now. Chromia's hand wrapped around the right horn of her helm--only a hands-breadth from Chromia's gun, even now ready to defend her, even now covering her and shielding her from enemy fire.

Both of their bodies were crackling with the excess energy of the fight, needing to escape somewhere and it might just as well be into each other. Elita arched and buried the sound of Chromia's name in her mouth, then flipped them over--still within arm's reach of the guns, but now Elita covered Chromia rather than vice versa.

Chromia seemed likely to protest "--Elita!" but it dissolved into a moan as her commander's hand pressed against the cover of her interfacing circuitry, her lips to the joint between faceplate and helm. "Yes."

It opened, and Elita connected them, activating the energy-recycling circuits as she opened the floodgates of energy and data, even Chromia momentarily forgetting her weapon as she clung to her commander, sending her pleasure in the fight and relief that they had survived, that the enemy had, for once, retreated, absorbing Elita's energy and confidence in return. "Elita," she said, low, and then pulled her commander's helm down by both horns, pressing their lips together hard as she silently overloaded.

They stayed there only for a moment, only long enough for Elita to overload in turn, long enough for a final hard kiss, before Elita disconnected them, one gun in each of Chromia's hand before she was even disconnected.

Chromia offered Elita's gun to her with a silent nod of acknowledgment. "You were excellent, commander."

Elita didn't bother to ask whether she meant the battle or the sex. "Only with your help, Chromia."


End file.
